Come, look with me inside this drawer, In this box I've often seen" -- Pamela Harazim.

A few weeks ago, mom and I were sifting through things at a thrift/antique store.  This particular store is actually an old house with each of its rooms filled with old treasures (along with, I must confess, old junk... but half the fun is in the treasure-hunting.)  In an old upstairs bathroom, buried beneath boxes and shoved between a tub and a wall, I discovered a pretty, but rather worn old sewing machine.  When mom eventually found me in this old bathroom examining my find, I told her I wanted a machine like that.  I didn't like the table it was on, and thought maybe I could buy just the machine and put it on the table that we already owned.  Then mom asked me why I would buy half of a no-name brand machine when we had a perfectly good, whole Singer at home.

Me: "But isn't ours missing the machine part?"

Mom: "No, Honey... it's inside the table..."

So, yes... all of these years I thought the "sewing machine" in our living room was just an old, pretty table that used to have a sewing machine that went with it (which, I imagined, had long since been lost, broken, sold, destroyed, or come to some other such unhappy end.)  Today I opened it up, and lo and behold, I found this beauty inside:

(cloth and thread added for effect... no, they weren't hiding in there, too)

My first question was: Does she still work??

My fix-it instinct had me playing with it for at least half an hour before I decided that threading this was a lot different than threading our newer Singer (which, up till this point, I had always considered ancient.. it is older than I am, after all...)  So I, uh... read the directions. (I'm sure if I were a man, I'd still be messing with it now)

As the accompanying manual is nowhere to be found, I looked her up online with this serial number:

According to Singer's website, she was manufactured in Elizabeth, New Jersey in 1904.

Wow.

Well, I found the manual, threaded properly, and finally attempted to sew a few stitches...

It worked!

Unfortunately, the belt on the treadle is broken and actually sewing on it requires you to use the hand wheel to the right... which is really painful after a while.

Well, actually, to be honest... I kind of broke the treadle belt. (Hehe... )  Apparently 106-year-old leather isn't as strong as it used to be, so when I attempted to hook the belt together over the wheel, the hook sort of broke off...

Luckily, I found a website that sells parts for old machines, and they happened to have a replacement belt for only about $13, including shipping!!!

I'm so excited to start sewing with her this summer as I attempt to learn how to make my own dresses, skirts, etc... and, of course, tiny clothes, dolls, etc. for little niece. ♥

(An addendum: My dad is pretty sure that this machine was his great grandmother's... my great great grandmother's!)

♥ Isle of CRU ♥

Spring break-- a week of sitting around at home in luxurious nothingness?  Usually yes.  

But not this year!

This year I decided to go with Duke Campus Crusade for Christ on their spring break beach trip called, as the title of this post indicates, Isle of CRU. (CRU, by the way, is short for Campus Crusade for Christ... yeah- long name to type out, and a mouthful to say.)  At any rate, while I did little more activity at Isle than I would have at home, I got to meet new people and strengthen existing relationships with fellow Christians from Duke.  Fun fun fun!  And now, for the real substance of this post-- pictures!!!  Though not many, as I forgot to take my camera with me most of the time... whoops.  I'll get the hang of this eventually.

Our lovely bedroom:

Emily and I roomed together for the week. ♥

View from our balcony door

We had a sunrise service on the beach

The services each evening were fantastic: singing, great talks, then small groups for deeper discussion following.  I really learned a lot this week about what it means to rest physically and spiritually, especially as a student, friendships, being vulnerable and open with fellow Christians, and why we should trust God with everything.

~~~~~~

To return to the pictures... :)

Unfortunately, it wasn't as warm as these people make it look...

Swimming, anyone? (high of the week-- 65)

Emily and I baked... a lot... with random ingredients we scrounged out of the snack closet(s) and, of course, the stocked-for-an-army guy's house (which, by the way, was hot pink).

These tasted like granola bars/cookies:

We cleaned kitchens a lot, too.  Is it weird that we enjoyed it...?

The dish faerie...

I took a great picture of her in some snazzy Eskimo sunglasses (or whatever those plastic slatted things are called), but as the photograph was deemed "dreadful", deletion demanded, retribution threatened, and the act reluctantly committed in order to avoid said revenge, this image must now suffice:

♥ a.d.o.r.a.b.l.e.♥

Well, that's all for now, friends!

Hope your week was just as blessed.

When the sun rises o'er the sea...

6 By the word of the LORD were the heavens made,

their starry host by the breath of his mouth.

7 He gathers the waters of the sea into jars;

he puts the deep into storehouses.

8 Let all the earth fear the LORD;

let all the people of the world revere him.

9 For he spoke, and it came to be;

he commanded, and it stood firm.

~Psalm 33:6-9~

It is well with my soul...

When peace like a river, attendeth my way,
When sorrows like sea billows roll;
Whatever my lot, Thou hast taught me to say,
It is well, it is well, with my soul.

Though Satan should buffet, though trials should come,
Let this blest assurance control,
That Christ has regarded my helpless estate,
And hath shed His own blood for my soul.

My sin, oh, the bliss of this glorious thought!
My sin, not in part but the whole,
Is nailed to the cross, and I bear it no more,
Praise the Lord, praise the Lord, O my soul!

For me, be it Christ, be it Christ hence to live:
If Jordan above me shall roll,
No pang shall be mine, for in death as in life,
Thou wilt whisper Thy peace to my soul.

But Lord, 'tis for Thee, for Thy coming we wait,
The sky, not the grave, is our goal;
Oh, trump of the angel! Oh, voice of the Lord!
Blessed hope, blessed rest of my soul.

And Lord, haste the day when my faith shall be sight,
The clouds be rolled back as a scroll;
The trump shall resound, and the Lord shall descend,
Even so, it is well with my soul.

~ Horatio Spafford